Before Clockwork could open his mouth to ask Charger what was wrong, the earth pony had already whipped around and exited the hut. Clockwork glanced at his shoulder, rolled his eyes, and took off after his friend. In no time at all, he was at her side.

“Charger, what the hay is going on?!” Clockwork yelled, eyes flicking over the numerous cuts, bruises, and scrapes adorning his friend’s hide.

“You’ll find out in about thirty seconds. Come on!” she quickened her pace, to which Clockwork followed suit. Her injuries couldn't have been as bad as they seemed if she was running as fast as she was. The pegasus stayed by her side the whole time, lightly flapping his wings to both exercise them as well as gain a little speed. The duo soon found themselves standing at the base of Nyumbani, Mji Mkuu’s capitol building of sorts. However, they did not go inside, for what Charger had brought Clockwork to see was at the base of the small staircase that led into the hut.

Uchawi sat on the dirt floor, another zebra mare shaking violently in her forelegs. The unnamed mare had heavy cloth bandages wrapped around her eyes. The rest of Uchawi’s family, and Meteor Squad, were gathered around them. Clockwork made his way a bit closer to the group before being greeted by Long Shot, who himself was adorned with light injuries sustained from heavy fighting.

“Clockwork, good to see you again, though I wish it wasn’t for this reason.”

“Same here.” the pegasus nodded before taking a few cautious steps towards Uchawi, “What the hay did I miss?”

“Those sons of bitches hit another village with that Battlefright shit, that’s what!” Askari shouted.

“What?” Clockwork asked in deadpan. Whether out of confusion or terror, he couldn’t decide.

“Askari and Meteor were making a supply drop at a village not too far from here,” Long Shot explained. “Next thing we know, dogs are attacking from every angle and green gas is spreading like wildfire. Thank Faust we got out alive.”

Clockwork’s eyes went wide. He knelt down in front of the mare with bandaged eyes, “Who’s this?”

“A resident of the village we were with just before the Consortium soldiers deployed Battlefright. She fell quickly, but I carried her here,” Switcher replied.

Clockwork lightly placed a hoof on the mare’s jaw line and gently traced it, “Good job getting her out alive, Switcher. Injuries?”

“She is suffering from severe direct ocular exposure to the gas, and any phenotypical damage she has sustained has been touched by the gas as well.”

“She is displaying symptoms that fall in line with mild shock as well. I know her somewhat. Her name is Safi, and she is- was an apprentice to the local shaman,” Mganga interrupted.

Clockwork frowned as he looked over the bandaged zebra. Her eye wraps were clean, a stark contrast to the rest of her. Her coat was caked with mud in several places and her mane was disheveled. Her bandages failed to hide that she was crying. Small blisters had appeared on her skin, which caused grotesque patches of missing fur to be replaced with painful-looking sores. She was muttering something too feebily for Clockwork to understand.

Clockwork’s eyes locked with Uchawi’s. “Can you save her?”

“She is lucky to have only had her eyes fully touched by the gas, and to have garnered only slight injuries to her skin. I will be able to treat her, but it will take some time.” Uchawi pulled Safi a bit closer, carefully stroking her mane to calm her.

“We’ll make ‘em pay. I swear it.” Long Shot gritted his teeth, acquiring glances from both a teary-eyed Zecora and a crazed Askari. “Meteor Squad, get your hazard suits on. We’re taking those dogs out before they can do anymore damage.”

“Yes sir!”

Clockwork shifted uncomfortably in his hazmat suit, gained from one of the crates the squad had brought with them. The faded yellow rubber restricted his wings and caught his fur in several places, some of which he’d rather not think about. Equestria had never developed hazmat suits for use during heavy combat, and he could tell. Despite his gas mask covering it up, Clockwork could still detect a smell not unlike that of his infected wound from earlier, only stronger and with a sickening hint of blood. The pegasus looked around and saw the rest of his squad, and Mganga, wearing the same suits as him. He began to wonder how they were successfully going to push back an invasion party that had the clear advantage over them before hearing a branch snap, followed by a bark. He and the rest of his team instinctively dropped to the jungle floor.

“See anything?” Long Shot’s voice buzzed quietly over Clockwork’s radio.

“Three dogs not a leap’s distance away. They too are wearing masks, though unlike us, their weapons are relaxed. Fools,” Mganga reported.

“Drop ‘em.”

Clockwork heard the sound of beating hooves, the yip of a scared dog, and three soft wumps.

The squad rose from where their position and circled the tree to find Mganga wiping off her now bloodied staff on the fur of one dog. Three large grey bodies laid before her, now missing their heads.

Without a word, the squad hurried to finish their mission as quickly as possible, and after a short time, the unholy smell grew worse. Clockwork fought the urge to vomit. After he gagged a few times, he knelt before Charger rushed to his side.

“Clockwork, are you alright?”

“I’m fine, just a bit out of practice is all. Guh. ” Clockwork regained his footing.

“Well, you either practice or die trying, and I would prefer the latter,” Long Shot remarked, a short chuckle ending his sentence.

“Ahem.” Mganga coughed. “We must not make jokes during times of war.” the zebra killed what little joy was left in the situation. Long Shot retook the lead, the group continuing in near-silence for a while before Mganga spoke again. “Do you believe there will be any survivors?”

“We’ll find out soon enough. We’re here.”

The soldiers strained their eyes to see what was in front of them, or more appropriately, the thing that wasn’t in front of them. Before the squad was a cloud of greenish gas, eerily motionless and massive in scale. Clockwork silently thanked the royal sisters that the stench hadn’t gotten any worse.

“It wasn’t nearly this bad when we retreated,” Charger mused.

“Doesn’t mean we aren’t going in. We sure as Luna can’t go around, under, or over it.”

Clockwork wished for a moment that the commander’s words didn’t apply to him as he struggled to keep his wings from cramping up underneath his suit. After checking to make sure everypony was ready, the group readied their respective weapons and crept into the waiting jaws of Tartarus.

Clockwork was wholeheartedly surprised that he hadn’t puked by now. The squad had passed at least a dozen corpses that bore very little similarity to the zebras they once were. Some stripes were gone, replaced by a single shade of brown, others were missing strips of flesh. All were dead, and noone was more horrified by this than Mganga.

“Those. . . monsters!” she screamed, falling to her knees before the remains of some zebra or another. Long Shot quickly trotted to her side, helping her to her hooves. He looked down at the corpse. “Someone you used to know?”

Mganga half-ignored the Nocturni’s words and continued to rave. “No, it is just that I have never seen this destruction in such detail before now! How could anyone use such a demonic creation?! This is not war! This is. . . slaughter!!”

“We’ll make ‘em pay, Mganga. I won’t rest until then.” the Nocturni gave her an affectionate pat on the shoulder.

“How sweet.”

The squad whirled around and pointed their various weapons at the source of the voice. A single dog, clad in a shimmering green energy field and wearing a gem-studded mask over his muzzle, appeared before them. “Even in the most horrific of circumstance, you pathetic equines still manage to be friendly to one another. I can’t decide if that’s adorable or sickly. Likely both.”

“Teamwork is the only guaranteed method to winning any sort of conflict,” Long Shot retorted. “What are you doing, complaining about pack mentality? You better start talking, dog, before I have to put you down.”

The dog ignored his imminent death with grace. “I ask that you surrender peacefully. There is no need to add further blood to this already pointless struggle.”

“You sadists want everything in your way dead and gone,” Clockwork spat. “We’re as much use to you as the dirt beneath you paws.”

The dog shook his head. “Alas, you confuse us with our less savory allies. We wish to continue our advances and leaps in the realms of science, and if that means we must commit unsavory acts. . . then so be it.” the dog raised a paw, and moved it a disinterested tilting motion. “The ends justify the means in my book.”

Clockwork winced, for the twisted logic in those words hurt. He knew now why the dogs kept pushing on into Zebrica, for they saw themselves as minor heros who could sacrifice themselves for the greater good. Nevertheless, he refuted the dogs offer. “You’re wrong, every last one of you!”

“Is that a refusal of our offer?” the dog asked, plainly amused.

“No,” Long Shot replied ominously. He had managed to sneak his way up behind the dog and press the barrel to to the back of his cranium. The nocturni pulled the trigger. His target’s body fell to the floor, minus a head. “But that was.”

A moment of dead silence blanketed everything, though it was quickly replaced by the sounds of diamond dog energy staffs firing almost all at once. Somehow, Clockwork managed to hear Long Shot scream “Ambush!”

Meteor scattered, and Clockwork quickly lost sight of his squad, their forms disappearing into the dense green fog. He continued to run, barely avoiding dogs as he did. He found shelter in a seemingly sturdy hut, the former occupant curled up in its bed. Clockwork found nothing of note inside, and collapsed against the back wall. He checked his pistol, reloaded, and only when he looked up did he see a massive dog, easily twice his height and cloaked in ink-hued shaggy fur, standing over him with an open paw above his head.

Before the pegasus could react, he was lifted by his neck and thrown against the hut’s wall, feeling something crack as he did. The pegasus rocketed through it, the entire structure collapsing as he landed in a puddle that was a most vivid shade of green. He struggled back to his hooves and felt for his radio, only to find a crushed metal pancake in its place.

Clockwork cursed as he threw the now defunct machine aside. His heart skipped a beat as he saw the behemoth dog sprinting towards him. The pegasus shakily fired four rounds before his LeMane was swatted from his hoof and he was tossed once more into the ground. His vision swam before he realized that a crack had appeared in his mask. He looked up to find the dog standing over him. It growled something that soundedly roughly like “Too easy!” as it brought down a huge paw near Clockwork’s head.

The pegasus could only gasp for air as the dog picked him up by his throat once more. The dog brought Clockwork’s masked face mere inches from his.

Clockwork’s memories flashed back to those of Ponyville’s invasion, and Axel. That monstrous griffon’s face briefly replaced the dogs before it threw him again. This time, Clockwork felt his muzzle hit the green muck without any protection. He placed a forehoof to his face, not only finding that his nose was now bleeding heavily, but that his mask was gone. He looked over at the dog and found him holding the pegasus’ mask in one massive paw before crushing it and throwing it aside in a similar manner to an empty soda can.

Clockwork’s eyes began to burn, his lungs felt like somepony had shoved burning coals down his throat, and he coughed continuously, unable to find air. He gasped when he found that the dog had lost it’s skin, and black ichor dribbled from the holes that used to be its eyes onto its naked pink flesh.

Clockwork would’ve screamed again were it not for the Battlefright that had taken up residence in his mouth, nose, and lungs. His eyes burned as they tried to purge the gas from them with acidic tears. Even with his vision significantly blurred, Clockwork could still see the horror that used to be the dog now standing over him. Much to the pegasus’ terror, the behemoth fell to its knees as another oily creature sprouted from its back and jumped directly in front of Clockwork.

To say it was the embodiment of a nightmare would’ve been an insult against Luna’s biggest mistake. It had no skin to speak of, its body being composed of the same black fluid that flowed from the former dog’s eye sockets. Its head was nothing but an equine skull, with jagged fangs in place of normal teeth. It raised its right appendage and produced some sort of knife, fitted perfectly for Clockwork’ neck. The pegasus would’ve struggled, but by now the Battlefright had taken its toll. The colt greatly preferred death to this howling nightmare and closed his eyes, waiting for mortality to take him.

“Clockwork!”

The pegasus must’ve been dead, for he heard the voice of an angel.

“Clockwork!”

He wasn't sure whether or not he should open his eyes. For all he knew, this was just another nightmare waiting for him to take the bait.

“Clockwork, wake up! You can’t die! Please, not now!”

Clockwork’s eyes shot open as his hearing fully returned. He breathed in a lungful of clean air before his vision returned as well. A new mask now covered his face, granting him a clear view of his surroundings. The dog that had once been his attacker was collapsed on the ground, smoke pouring from its bullet-hole riddled neck. Charger was in front of the pegasus, holding the mask in place. When she realized that the pegasus had reawakened, she hugged him.

“Clockwork! I told you not to get yourself hurt or I would-!”

Clockwork interrupted by raising his pistol and firing. The round hit a dog that was sneaking up behind Charger square in the chest, keeping the yellow mare and the stallion safe for another brief moment. The duo was quickly joined by Long Shot, who helped the pegasus to his hooves.

“Good to see your aim’s still good, kid. Speaking of aim, these dogs are terrible shots. I watched four or five of them kill each other already!”

“Make that six, sir.”

“Switcher, that you?”

“Yes.”

Long Shot sighed. “This counterattack was one big screw up. We’re leaving. The dogs’ll kill themselves for us!”

“Where would you like us to regroup, commander?” Mganga’s voice crackled over the radio.

“We make our way back to Mji Mkuu, understood?”

The squad answered as one, “Yessir!”

The team quickly made their way outside of the village and regrouped at a nearby tree. The sounds of weapon discharge had faded, replaced now by heavy panting. By now the warriors had all discarded their suits, and every member had sustained wounds to a certain degree. Even Switcher had bruises. Charger’s cuts hadn’t gotten any better from being in a rubber suit, and Clockwork had actually taken Battlefright full on. Long Shot had sustained an impressive gash across his side, and he had to get the wound washed out with healing potions several times by Switcher.

“Before anyone asks, by technicality this mission is a success,” Mganga explained. “We went in to kill dogs, and they did that for us. We were unprepared, something that we should not let happen to us again.”

“Agreed,” Charger added as she looked over her gloves and Clockwork for damage.

“I mean no offense, Clockwork, but it is hard to believe that you are still alive.” the zebra warrior commented. “I have met none as unaffected as you with the amount of poison you’ve been exposed to. Have you received special training to resist toxins?”

“Nah. I guess I got lucky.” Clockwork smirked.

“Lucky or not, you will have to see Uchawi again when we return to Mji Mkuu.”

“Sounds good to me.” Clockwork was helped to his hooves by Charger before stretching his wings. They ached, but it was offset by the sensation of finally managing to spread his feathered appendages to full breadth. With only a few nods, the squad set off once more.

The squad gradually made their way back to the village. When they arrived, they were greeted by another horrific sight.

“This day just keeps getting better and better, doesn’t it?” Long Shot asked, fury and sarcasm equally detectable in his voice. “Ah, Zebrica, first she taketh away, then she pops a cap in you knees and runs off with your marefriend.”

Mji Mkuu laid in ruins. Several huts in the village had been reduced to piles of rubble. Zebras were scattered about, some wrapped in bandages, others without a scratch on them. All of them had an exasperated look in their eyes, and that didn’t change after they noticed Meteor Squad had returned. The squad made their way back to Nyumbani, only to find it not there at all. Askari, Uchawi, Captains Twilight, Fluttershy, and Sergeant Applebloom were all shouting orders to separate groups of zebras. Askari noticed the returning squad and trotted towards Long Shot, stopping a short distance away.

He was as grim as ever, his former rage turned into a far more alarming “just a few degrees from boiling over”, and his voice reflected that. “Glad you could make it back, I suppose you have nothing good to say about the village?”

Long Shot shook his head. “What in the name of Luna’s flank happened here?”

“The attack on the village, Safi called it ‘Mtego’, was just a lure. The dogs somehow knew you’d head over to Safi’s village, and when you did, they attacked us.”

“Casualties?”

“Surprisingly, none. The worst injury sustained was a broken leg, but Uchawi and your pegasus friend fixed that real quick.”

“Askari, where is Zecora?!” Mganga asked.

The stallion’s ears drooped. “That’s why the dogs came. She’s gone, sis.”

Mganga’s pupils widened in shock. “What?!”

Uchawi, noticing the newly arrived squad, ran up to them and stopped beside her son. “My goodness, child, what happened to you?”

Mganga, however, had her own topic in mind.“Never mind that! Where. Is. Zecora?!”

Uchawi’s voice held surprisingly little pain. “She is gone, Mganga. The dogs took her, and we have no idea where.”

Clockwork slammed his forehooves into the mud. “This is insane! The dogs know where we are left and right, and they took the only tribal leader worth their salt to do who knows what with her! What next, they’ll just kill us with artillery strikes?! Oh no, that’d be too ‘unscientific’, they’d rather experiment on us first and play Discord with our bodies and minds. They’d cut us open, yank out our guts and spell out our names with ‘em after pumping us full of adrenaline so we could watch ‘em do it!”

Charger spoke out, confusion apparent in her voice. “Clockwork?”

“What else? They murder countless villages without so much as a second thought?! They’ve killed foals for all we know! This is bullshit!”

“Clockwork?”

“I say we head straight for their main base of operations, kick in the door, and cut open every dog we find until they beg for-”

“Clockwork!”

The pegasus looked towards the source of the voice. He must’ve looked like a mad-stallion, for the entire ensemble, especially Charger, appeared as though they were staring at a murder as it took place. The pegasus quickly looked into a shattered mirror nearby and found not only his reflection split into several faces at once, but his eyes were bloodshot and his pupils were the size of pinheads.

“Oh no. Oh no no no no no. . . what’s happening to me what's happening to me what’s happeniiinngnngngn. . .” Clockwork's voice devolved into rambling, often switching between languages mid-sentence, some of which were not among what he already knew. The pegasus curled up into a ball and fell to the floor, tears streaming from his eyes. His vision faded to where there was only a pinprick of light in the distance, and the last image that crossed Clockwork’s mind before he fell unconscious was Charger’s face, horror clearly present in her eyes.

Clockwork opened his eyes, and noticed a somewhat familiar figure at the end of a table. A simple meal was in front of him in a wooden bowl, a salad if he was right. But he hardly paid attention to his surroundings, because he was more worried with his lack of wings. he avoided making eye contact with the thing at the end of the table, and before he could be tempted to do otherwise, he closed his eyes once more.

It seemed like eternity until Clockwork detected the stench of Mtego. He fought against his rational mind and spared a peek at his salad once more. The fact it was black and bubbling, along with the almost leathery texture of the bowl and table, made him recoil. Exhausted, and wishing to truly get this over with, he looked up to see some griffon or another munching on a bloody apple that was colored the same, to his horror, as Charger’s coat. Clockwork dreaded what could come next, and then it hit him that he never looked to see what he was sitting in.

As the seat under Clockwork gave away, he sped past green clouds in a red sky, a parody of Ponyville’s skyline. Finally, after a horrid freefall, Clockwork landed surprisingly without injury in a warm, sticky-

Clockwork groaned, and was almost pleased to see that, in sans of blood, he landed in a vast plane of tar like sludge. But before he could bother with attempting to wiggle himself out of the thick mass, it began to shift and contract around him, which he figured was the beginning of some horrific grand finale to scar him for the next decade or so.

Alas, he was right.

It began as a protrusion in the vast black sea, a thin, long object that, going by the distance between it and Clockwork, it was probably more than a mile long. Next came a massive displacement of the thick goo, which heralded the rise of a single, monolithic shape that Clockwork dared not think about. It was easily as wide as Canterlot Castle, and that was merely the largest thing he could think of at the time. While it was seemingly there for ages and eons, with oceans of sludge sloughing off in sick, red-illuminated waves, he noticed a bright crescent of green-gold. While at first happy at the appearance of color, his joy quickly dissolved into horror at the widening of the crescent, and at the beginning of another such one a good distance away from the one in existence, for he saw what they were.

They were eyes, made of zebras.

Great green-gold orbs of pure hate, with a thousand writhing zebras silently creating the Battlefright-colored mockery of a pony face. Before he could scream and drown in the ichor of his own mind, the crude head gained a mouth.

The tiny puke-colored opening under the two great globes of sin quickly grew wide enough to cause the huge head to double into itself, splitting itself in twain like a bloated, rotted pumpkin crushed with a spade. What happened next, Clockwork simply could not fathom. After all, how could one see the whole of a thing so big?

Clockwork’s vision faded to a oily mix of red and gold with a shifting core of silver.

Clockwork’s eyes opened slowly rather than bolting open, the pegasus using what little strength he had to keep his body prone in bed. He would’ve screamed, were it not for the burning in his throat. He looked around to find himself in a semi-destroyed hut which he recognized as his own. Nothing mentally scarring was present, and Clockwork breathed a sigh of relief.

“I really need a therapist.”

“More than that.”

Clockwork looked over his shoulder to find Mganga, who had spoken, along with Charger and Switcher-7. He quickly turned away, gritting his teeth as he did. “What in the name of Tartarus is happening to me?”

“Mganga and I examined you while you were unconscious,” Switcher explained. “While you may not agree, you are very, very lucky. Mtego’s gas was different than what was used in previous attacks. Some sort of jungle herb had been added by the dogs for a experimental kick, it appeared to lessen the effects.”

“How long have I been out?”

“Three hours, sir.”

“Then what the hay was that three hours ago? I totally flipped!”

“Do not degrade yourself, pegasus.” Mganga spoke, “Safi had a reaction not unlike yours an hour ago.”

“So not only does Battlefright end life in the most demonic way possible, but it also screws with your mind even if you can get away from it?”

Mganga nodded, “It appears so.”

“Just one more reason to get rid of the dogs.” Clockwork turned over and began to exit his bed, but stopped when he saw his back left leg wrapped in bandages. “What’s this?”

“You sprained your ankle during your fight with that large dog,” Charger finally spoke.

“The same one you shot and shocked to death?”

Charger nodded.

“Thanks for, well, saving my life.” a smile appeared at the corner of Clockwork’s mouth, but it quickly disappeared. “How long am I gonna be out of the fight with this?”

“One day minimum, sir,” Switcher reported.

Clockwork didn’t respond. Instead, he placed all four legs on the ground. His back left leg stung, but it didn’t stop him from limping over to the drawer where his clothes lay. Even as he put on his vest, which had by now sported several healthy dents, he could tell that the other three occupants of the room had their jaws hanging open. As he set his goggles over his forehead, he turned around, confirming his suspicions.

“I’m not staying bedridden for another day. I’ve had it with the dogs beating us at every turn, and it’s time to take the fight to them. I’m heading to what’s left of Nyumbani, tag along if you want.”

Clockwork started out the door, not looking behind him to see if his squadmates had chosen to follow him or not.

“Seriously?!” Askari smashed a forehoof into the dirt. “You really want us to assault the dogs’ main base of operations even after all we’ve been through?”

Clockwork sighed as he adjusted himself on his mat. “Exactly.”

“I’m one for crazy plans, kid, but would you mind telling us why we should assault a base, which is likely protected by state of the art security systems, not to mention we don’t even know where it is?” Long Shot asked, “Not only that, but you’d be asking a devastated people to get up and fight after they just got hit.”

Clockwork took a sip of the healing potion Uchawi had provided. He glanced about the space where Meteor Squad, the dogs, and Uchawi’s family, had gathered. “First off, the dogs are probably thinking exactly like you are right now. They wouldn’t dream of us attacking so soon after a crushing defeat. They would believe us to be completely demoralized over the capture of our “leader”. If we attack them now, they’d be taken completely by surprise. Better yet, if we win, then it’ll show the Consortium that the United Zebra Clans are not a threat to be taken lightly. Next, the gathered warriors here would be more than enough to take the base if Mganga’s rescue was any indicator.”

“You are bold, Clockwork,” Mganga commented, “but you still have not explained how we can assault a base when we don’t know where it is with an army we do not have.”

“Actually, I think I may know exactly where it is.” Clockwork stumbled to his hooves, thanks to some assistance from Charger. The pegasus limped over to Diesel and whispered something in his ear. The dog nodded before quickly turning to Sod and Grumbler. Before anypony could react, the dog lifted both of his comrades by their throats and threw them a good distance. The dogs landed in a small dirty puddle, and only turned around in time to see their leader place a massive paw over each of their chests.

Diesel yelled something in doggish, and Sod and Grumbler whimpered in reply. Clockwork could roughly make out what they were saying.

“Which one of you is traitor?!” Diesel yelled.

Neither dog replied.

Diesel lifted his paws before slamming them into his comrade’s chests once more. He bared his teeth. “Answer or I tear out throats!”

After a few seconds of dead silence, Sod finally growled “Fine, I am spy. You happy?”

Diesel lifted the dog once more and slammed him muzzle first into the mud. “Traitor! Where is base?!” the dog lifted Sod’s head out of the muck. “Speak!”

Sod coughed a few times before whimpering “In sea of gold leaves. Cannot miss it.”

“Exact location! NOW!”

“I-In fog! Near singing pools! Truth!”

Diesel growled before dropping Sod. The smaller dog turned around just in time to see his superior’s paw ball up into a fist and punch him directly between the eyes. Sod fell back to the floor, his nose dripping blood that slowly mixed with the mud below, and did not stir.

“By Celestia, did you. . . kill him?” Charger asked, horrified at the defector’s ferocity.

Diesel laughed a bit through his nose. “No. Clockwork told me no killing. Sod lucky.”

Charger turned to Clockwork. She didn’t need to say anything, for her look spoke volumes.

“I had figured it out earlier. The dogs knew where we were at every turn, and that couldn’t have been accomplished without eyes on us the entire time. Since the Consortium doesn’t trust ponies, they must’ve decided that a dog spy would be easier to use. Their biggest problem was how to get a dog into an enemy camp under the guise as a friend. I guess having Sod taken as prisoner wasn’t a total loss for them, considering he was loyal to the core.”

Long Shot decided to play Grogar’s advocate. “How do you know he’s telling the truth?”

“Well, Diesel hates the Consortium, and Grumbler doesn’t have a communication chip in his ear, see?” Clockwork walked over to the unconscious form of Sod and removed a small trinket from his ear. “Diesel, could you explain what this is? I’m no good with gemtech.”

“Covert communication device. Slip inside ear and near invisible to others. Don’t know how long Sod had. Broken now.” Diesel shrugged.

Clockwork gave a tiny sigh. “Thanks for the help, Diesel.”

“Anything to get back at Consortium.” Diesel shook Clockwork’s real wing carefully before he and Grumbler dragged Sod’s body away, presumably for more “paws on” questioning . The pegasus turned back to the ensemble, and found each member with some varying look of surprise on their face.

“Mganga,” Long Shot placed a forehoof on the zebra’s shoulder. “You alright?”

It was only now that Clockwork realized that Mganga’s expression was not one of surprise, but of fear. “We cannot go to that base.”

“Why not? We know exactly where it is now.”

“Yes,” Uchawi interrupted, “and that is why we cannot go.”

“Would you care to explain, Madam Uchawi?” Switcher asked.

“Come.” the shaman motioned for the group to sit around a nearby fireplace. She withdrew a bottle of green powder from a pouch and tossed it into the flames. A massive column of green smoke rose up, and it quickly separated into vague, pony-esque figures.

“In the plains of the Samara, the land of the golden grass, there is a region where zebras dare not tread. Seven large lakes dot the landscape, and within those lakes live a demonic sea creature.” the figures transformed into the basic shape of a creature Clockwork easily recognized from a few childhood stories, a seapony.

“I am assured you all know the foalhood tales, yes?”

The gathered soldiers expressed their basic knowledge of the subject.

Uchawi continued. “At the end of your tales, they say that they mysteriously disappeared from the seas of the world after some great event caused them to flee.” to Clockwork’s curiosity, Switcher gave a small shiver at the mare’s words.

Long Shot raised his eyebrows and asked, “What’re you getting at, Ma’am?”

Most of the gathered ponies were shocked at the next words out of the mare’s mouth. “The seaponies fled to Zebrica by a great network of rivers that have long dried up, and they changed.”

The smoke figures slowly distorted further and further until all signs that they were seaponies had disappeared. The fins had vanished, leaving long, crooked legs in their place, each knobbly webbed finger bedecked with a horrible claw. Their entire bodies had become far more elongated and scaly, and their manes changed from the smooth flowing ones Clockwork was familiar with into rigid, almost fleshy seaweed-like strands.

“Something happened to the seaponies, no zebra alive knows what, but they changed from the adorable, fun-loving creatures all the land used to know into disgusting monsters that lure the curious to their deaths. They call themselves Kelpies."

Uchawi gave the green haze a swipe with a hoof. A smoke figure of a simple equine soon appeared, as did one of a glittering lake. The vague stallion slowly made its way closer to the lake, apparently to get a drink. “They draw the unlucky nearer and nearer to their homes, and wait for them to get close enough. Then. . . they strike.”

The figure of the earth pony jumped back a bit before being grabbed by a serpentine tail and pulled into the lake. The smoke illusion vanished.

“That, my friends, is why we cannot go to the base. If we do, than many would die from the Kelpies long before we managed to even reach the dogs.”

“So why not try a different route of attack?” Charger asked.

“Think about it,” Clockwork responded, “the Consortium probably knows about the Kelpies and would have massive defenses anywhere the Kelpies aren’t already present. It’s a free defense system.”

“Perhaps we could request precision strikes from Szary?” Charger added.

“U-um. . . that wouldn’t work,” Ndogo, who had stayed quiet for so long, finally spoke up. “I’ve seen the fog myself. I accidentally stumbled into it for a second and I coudn’t see the sun, and it was a perfectly clear day. Besides, the lakes themselves are magical in nature, and have resisted our own attempts at removing them. No doubt they could. . . interfere with magical devices like your airships.”

Long Shot lowered his head in half-defeat. “So airstrikes are useless. The dogs have it all thought out, don’t they?”

“It seems that way, sir,” Switcher replied.

The group was silent for a long moment, each individual trying to determine a safer way in. Eventually, Clockwork spoke. “How thick is the mud there?”

Ndogo thought for a moment. “N-not that thick, why?”

“Can Kelpies get through armor plating?”

Askari spoke up. “Hardly matters if you're drowning. What’re you getting at?”

Clockwork smirked. “We take the tank.”

A thundering “What?” was the reply from all but a slightly quivering Ndogo.

“You heard me. It’s all hermetically sealed gemtech, which means that it can function inside the swamp. Otherwise, there’s no way the dogs would bother setting up camp so deep in. We take the tank, drive straight through the swamp, shoot everything that pops out of the water, and if we’re lucky, the dogs might even mistake us for one of their own and let us into the base with no struggle!”

“The plan’s awfully risky.” Long shot placed a forehoof to his chin. “I love it.”

Uchawi sighed after a moment’s consideration. “Very well then. How many warriors will you need to go with you?”

“A small prison’s worth of unarmed zebras took out a Consortium F.O.B. using only what they scavenged from dead enemies. Unfortunately, I can tell that you can’t spare that kind of marepower right now.” the commander looked to two certain zebras. “Askari, Mganga, you two willing to risk death to save you sister?”

Askari chuckled. “I’d cut your tongue out for asking such a pointless question had I a blade.”

“I would prefer you didn’t, brother.” Mganga chimed in. “Mother, what say you?”

Uchawi sighed. “As long as you two promise to come back alive, I have no objections.”

“Thank you, Ma’am.” Long Shot nodded. “Meteor Squad, get your supplies ready to go. You all have the remainder of the day to rest. We leave in the morning. Understood?”

“Yessir!”